REMEMBRANCE DAY 30th MAY 2026
Just to remind you that the special day, when each year we recall with fondness and gratitude, our dear departed colleagues, will be with us soon.
I trust this meets with your approval.
Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale. Blog Admin.
Departed list: updated 01.04.2026
1.
S.R. (Sunil) de Silva
2.
A.R.K. (Russel) Paul
3.
Dawne de Silva Paul
4.
Bernard Randeniya
5.
Niriella Chandrasiri
6.
V. Ganeson
7.
L.G.D.K. (Irwin) Herath
8.
V.Kunasingham
9.
B.L. Perera
10. B.
Somasunderam
11.
N.C.D.M. Gunasekara
12.
K.Sunderampillai
13. Tudor
Wickramarachchi
14. K.N.
(Kiththa) Wimalaratne
15. Anna
Ponnambalam Sathiagnanan
16. A.
Satchitananda
17. N.
Sivakumar
18. T.A.
Dayaratne
19.
Sidath Jayanetti
20. N.
Balakumar
21.
Kamali Nimalasuriya de Silva 14.4.2013
22. K.
Sri Kantha – 15.9.13
23. P.
Lucien Perera – 14.6.14
24. Priya
(Gunaratna) de Silva – 8.10.14
25. Arul
(Sivaguru) Balasubramaniam – 15.10.14
26. W.
Punsiri Fernando – 15.11.14
27. W.
Rajasooriyar – 6.1.15
28.
M.P.C. Jaimon – 26.3.15
29. S.
Vedavanam – 1.7.15
30.
Farouk Mahmoud – 27.11.16
31.
Janaka (JG) Wijetunga – 13.03.17
32.
Manohari Navaratnarajah Shanmuganathan – 22.03.17
33. D. B.
Mahendra Collure – 31.05.17
34. Suren
Iyer – 13.10.17
35.
Sardha Jayatilake Wijeratne (Passed away 3 years ago)
36. S.
Sarvananda – 26.05.18
37. Sue
Ratnavel Gunsegaram - 16.7.2018
38. Boyd
Tilak (Chula) Batuwitage - 10.12.2018
39. Ranjit
Kuruppu 9.4. 2019
40. C.D.
(Desmond) Gunatilake 2.6.2019
41.
Razaque Ahamat 7.7.2109
42.
H.N.Wickremasinghe 8.11.2019
43. Kamini
(Goonewardena) Ferdinando 31.1.2021
44. Lucky Weerasooriya
jan 2022
45. Zita Perera
Subasinghe 5.10.2022
46. V.P.H Rajapakse
15.10.2022
47. Mangalam
Sabaratnam Krishnadasan 22.12.2022
48. Cecil Saverimuttu
26.1.2023
49. J. C. Fernando
18.04.2023
50. Navam Chinniah
03.082023
51. Philomena P
Thiraviam 6.9.2023
52 Subramanium,
Indrani Anthonypillai Oct 2023
53. Asoka Wijeyekoon
Dec 22nd,2023
54. Sriani Basnayake
Dissanayake 15.02.2024
55. R Wickremaskeran
23.4.2024
56. Bertram
Nanayakkara 24.05.2024
57. Gwendoline
(Perera) Herath 28.06.2024
58. Primrose
(Jayasinghe) Wijeyewardhena 11.08.2024
59. Rita M G Silva
(Alwis) Nov 2024
60. Lakshman
Abeyagunawardene. 14.12.2024
61. Revelion
(Revo) Drahaman 20.12.2024
62. Raveendra (Ravi)
Nadaraja. 19.05.2025
63. Lareef Idroos.
01.09.2025
64. Padmini (Pathmani)
Goonewardena August 2025
65. Kumar Balachandra.
January 2026
Lucky's younger brother, Srilal, who was the Commander of the Sri Lanka Army, invited me to the ceremony when Lucky's ashes were interred at their family burial spot at Kanatte. His three sons were also present and I was invited to deliver a short speech as well.
In 1989, when I was on a family holiday in the US, we visited Lucky at his beautiful home in Orlando Florida. His house was adjacent to a creek and we went boating as well. Later, I caught some crabs, and Lucky's wife, Ruwani,prepared an excellent dinner consisting of string hoppers and crab curry. When we were leaving, I was given a visitor's book to make an entry. I noticed that the last entry had been made by Dr Alahendra (few batches our senior), and he and his wife were killed in a RTA when they were driving back home from Lucky's residence. With some trepidation , I wrote on a fresh page, as we were driving back to the airport soon after!
Russell excelled at the Freshers' meet in athletics, winning a few events when we entered the University. As mentioned by me earlier, we were co-interne House Officers with Professor K Rajasuriya, and we were roommates at the Main Quarters for one year. I remember him making ham out of a pork shop for Christmas in 1967.
Later, he decided to emigrate to the US. When I asked him why he was doing so, he replied that although his father was a senior academic and they lived in an apartment on Duplication Road, he did not wish for that to happen to him as well, even though Dawn was quite affluent. Later, whenever he visited Sri Lanka, we used to meet. They had a daughter and a son. Unfortunately, the daughter was brain-damaged at birth and developed Hyperactive Attention Deficit Disorder (HADD). Russell specialised in GI oncology and worked in Philadelphia. I was planning to visit them during our trip to the US, but unfortunately could not accomplish it. I spoke to him last over the phone from Indra Anandasabhapathy's house in Staten Island New York.
Later, Dawn had developed ankylosing spondylitis and had been confined to bed. They had employed a housemaid to look after the daughter. Unfortunately, after the maid passed away, Russell was saddled with the problem of looking after two differently abled family members. When he could not provide proper care any more, he decided to end it all by committing three murders and a suicide. After setting up IV infusions, he injected a lethal drug. Knowing Russell, he would have calculated the lethal dose up to the second decimal point. The coroner did not publicise the name of the drug, thinking that others might get ideas.
As I look back on my life and remember the friends we have
lost, I turn to the wisdom of Robert Laurence Binyon and the poignant lines he
wrote for those who fell in the First World War:
They shall
grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall
not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going
down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
The 30th of May has become a special day in our calendar. It
is set aside to remember our friends who entered the Faculty of Medicine,
Colombo, in 1962 and who are no longer with us. It is a time for reflection —
to cherish the wonderful years we shared, to honour their memory, and to
celebrate their lives with gratitude for the time we were privileged to have
together.
I am often overwhelmed with nostalgia as I think back to our
days at the Faculty. I remember, with a deep sense of loss, a kinder and
gentler world that seemed to fade as we left medical school. Most painful of
all has been losing the friends who meant so much to me. Life carried us
forward — onto the relentless treadmill of building careers and raising
families. Now, at the close of my working life, I still long for those days,
though more than fifty years have passed. We were such an integral part of the Faculty
and the General Hospital; perhaps our voices and laughter still echo in the
corridors of those hallowed halls.
The ache of losing friends never truly disappears.
Friendships are among life’s richest blessings, and those formed and
strengthened in youth are especially precious and enduring. The moments we
shared remain vivid and treasured in our hearts.
At this time, we also think of the spouses and families of
our departed friends. They have borne the profound sorrow of loss and the
difficult journey of learning to live without their loved ones. We deeply
admire their strength and are grateful for their continued presence at our
gatherings and reunions. They remain an integral part of our community and will
always be warmly welcomed.
On this day of remembrance, we also honour our teachers at
the Faculty and our clinical tutors at the General Hospital, Colombo. With
generosity and dedication, they guided us in the demanding art of diagnosis,
treatment, and compassionate care. We were especially fortunate to have
Professor O. E. R. Abhayaratne as our Dean — an exceptional teacher, a selfless
mentor, and a fatherly presence to us all.
There were about 160 students in our 1962 batch. I knew some
better than others. With some of them I formed deep bonds and lifelong
friendships. When those friends passed on, they left behind a void that can
never truly be filled. On this Remembrance Day, I would like to honour and
cherish their memory.
Bernard Randeniya
As a young medical student with his cherubic smile, he was
funny, gregarious and an incorrigible flirt. His pranks and foibles can fill a
book. Always happy, he saw the world through rose-tinted glasses. I visited him
where he worked as DMO-Rattota (he mined for gemstones), MOH-Hanguranketa (he
went hunting for wild boar), MS-Kalutara (had moonlight parties by the river)
and Director- Cancer Hospital Maharagama (holding lavish dinner parties). He
had unique gifts as a host and a matchless gift for laughter. Wherever he was
Bernard enjoyed good food, generous helpings of the amber nectar and loved a
jolly good sing-song. His love of life, amiable kindness and generosity always
stood out.
Bernard was held in high esteem in the Health Service as one
of its most colourful and successful managers. He led from the front and
inspired all those who worked with him. His great professionalism was
accompanied by an infectious enthusiasm for life and mischievous sense of
humour. He used his charm and skills of persuasion to obtain expensive
equipment for the Cancer Institute Maharagama to benefit the many patients who
came for treatment. Despite his achievements he was also a modest man,
protective of his privacy, embarrassed by praise and with a deep aversion for
publicity.
In early 1999 when we met up in Colombo, he gave me the sad
news of his illness which proved terminal. I kept in touch with him and admire
the courage which he showed until the very end. He passed away with great
dignity in November 1999 at the age of 58 years. Bernard was a devout Catholic
. His faith gave him great comfort during his final illness.
His cheeky grin and infectious laugh are precious memories
for us all. Bernard was my best friend and I miss him dearly. He was far too
young to leave us.
H.N.Wickramasinghe
I was surprised and delighted to see him in the Paediatric
ward in Kurunegala to start his internship in June 1967. For the next 6 months,
we were to save lives together. I couldn’t have asked for a better colleague. He
was conscientious, caring and was a kind doctor. I remember it so well on our
first payday when we walked to the Kurunegala Rest House. We sat in its spacious
verandah to enjoy several pints of beer.
He was great company and specially so after a few glasses of
the amber nectar. HN never indulged in hurtful gossip, recrimination or sniping
and had a good word for everyone. His commitment, honesty and dignity touched
all those with whom he worked. It must also be said, HN never stood for any
nonsense and spoke his mind.
Although he was a big burly lad, HN was a ‘softy’ within. I
recall with nostalgia our farewell party after completing internship. There
were many sad goodbyes. On that fateful day as he left us HN got so very
emotional and tearful.
HN became a successful General Practitioner in Hanwella.
The last time I met HN was around 2004. R.S Jayatilleke invited a few batch-mates to
his house for drinks and dinner. HN was broader than before, but he had a full
head of curly hair lightly greying at the edges. He was his usual self, full of
wit and humour. We reminisced our time
together in Kurunegala.
HN passed away peacefully in November 2019 after a brief
illness. I do miss him despite the years.
Sivakumar Vedavanam
We were good friends in the faculty. We became closer working
together In the Blood Bank in Colombo. I recall the many evenings we drifted
towards the Health Department Sports Club to put the world to right. As Medical
Officer in the Blood Bank we travelled to all parts of the island collecting
blood. On those trips he asked me to join him for company. We did have a jolly
good time together.
He was a good friend to me when my life was in turmoil.
During those journeys he showed tremendous kindness to the
PHI’s, attendants and labourers who were part of our team. They all loved him
for his classless friendship and lavish hospitality. He had retained that “Childhood
innocence" of purity, wonder, and lack of cynicism. Veda viewed the world with trust, simple joy
and a belief in goodness. Those were indeed our memorable years.
He qualified in Psychiatry in the UK. I do regret my
inability to connect with him in the UK as he lived just an hour’s drive away
from me.
Sivakumar passed away in 2015. He will be fondly remembered as
a kind, generous and a genuine friend. The planet is a poorer place without him
when he has taken his rightful place in those Elysian Fields.
Razaque Ahamat
We both lived in Wattala and travelled daily by train from
Hunupitiya to Maradana in carriages packed like sardines. Then we sat together
at lectures, weathered the storms of the signatures and endured the hardships
of those clinical appointments. During those years, what stood out was his
helpful kindness, his great sense of humour and his charming, convivial nature.
All through those years in the faculty he enjoyed life to the full. He joined
in the many dances, Colours Night and Block Nights that brightened up our
lives. Razaque was often one of the last of the stragglers to leave King
George’s Hall at the break of dawn.
Razaque had many stories to tell which he related with a
slight lisp which enhanced the narrative. He said, with a murky smile, he
descended from the Royal family in Penang. If that was indeed fact or fiction,
we will never know just like the other hilarious stories in his repertoire.
Razaque brought happiness to our lives at the faculty when the atmosphere was
stuffy and toxic.
Razaque arrived to our 1962 Batch Reunion in London held in
1994 wearing a Scottish Kilt with all its regalia, typical of the man.
In retirement in Dundee, Scotland he helped to liven up the
Batch Blog with his witty anecdotes and amusing stories.
Razaque passed away peacefully in 2019 after a long illness
bravely borne.
Zita Perera Subasinghe
After the great dispersal from Kynsey Road in 1967, it took
a further 48 years to see Zita again. This time, she was with her husband, Joe.
They both seemed jolly and lively.
Mahendra has kept in touch with Zita, and we all met up at Côte
Brasserie off Oxford Street in London. It was 2015, and we had all retired from
our professional lives. This was a remarkable bonding. There was so much
closeness and intimacy despite the passage of years.
We retraced our lives since medical school. Zita achieved
greatness in her chosen field of Ophthalmology but she remained ever so modest.
I remember the clarity with which Zita related the story of her life, work, and
family to this day. What stood out was how happy she was with her life. Zita
was delightful company, always spoke kindly about people.
There were many occasions when she asked my wife and I to
visit them at Southend-on -sea. But life
then was busy and got in the way. We just couldn’t make it. This we do regret
very much. Zita is one the kindest and
the most genuine persons I’ve met.
Zita passed away peacefully in the United Kingdom in September
2022 after a long illness borne with courage. I still have the book of poems
she wrote at the very end of her life.
Priya Gunaratna
In 1967 we met again in Kurunegala doing those arduous tasks
of internship. She oozed charm and personality. We worked together in the Children's Ward with
the Paediatrician Dr Chandra de S Wijesundera (who later married our batchmate
Manel Ratnavibhushana). There, I got to know Priya more closely, sharing the
on-calls and other onerous tasks of a busy unit. While at work she had the
great ability to remain calm and in control.
She showed tremendous kindness, courtesy and patience
towards the children in her care and also to their worried parents. I recall Priya had great empathy for the
poor, simple rural folk of the wanni who sought our help. She remained a
reliable, unpretentious and hardworking colleague throughout. The passion, integrity, and professionalism
Priya showed during the internship was a beacon for us all. She was indeed a very special person and a
delightful friend to be with.
Priya passed away in Colombo in October 2014 after a long
illness borne with strength, dignity, and fortitude. She touched many lives and
is greatly missed.
Tudor Wickramarachi:
He was rather restless and intense as a medical student. Tudor
always gave as good as he got. I also remember his exuberant personality and
his zest for life. Tudor and I worked as surgical interns and endured the
punishing schedule of hospital medicine together. Amidst the brief tantrums,
awful puns and risqué humour, Tudor showed great empathy and tremendous
kindness to his patients, staff and colleagues. He was a loyal friend but was
never inhibited by sensitivity or shyness when it came to expressing his own
opinion. Although occasionally
boisterous, he was mostly gregarious, genial and generous.
He did his internship in Kurunegala and lived in the House
Officer’s quarters which was called ‘Ambaruk Sevana’. This was famous for its
lavish parties and lively music. The songs of C.T Fernando were heard deep into
the night. Whenever I hear CTF songs it
always reminds me of Tudor, singing his heart out.
I visited him when he was DMO Dambulla. Call it ‘oriental
lavishness’, the bottle of amber nectar appeared before I sat down and to this
day that trip remains a blissful memory of a well-lubricated evening.
When we met again in London he was much subdued now a
reformed family man. I nearly fell off the chair when he refused a drink. Tudor
became a respected Pathologist in Bristol.
He sadly passed away suddenly and unexpectedly in Bristol,
UK in August 2016, while doing what he loved best – playing golf. His was a life well lived but sadly taken away
far too soon at the age of 66 years.
Asoka Wijeyekoon alias “Lubber”
He was one of my closest pals and I miss him dearly. We
worked together in the Central Blood Bank. Meeting him even as an octogenarian,
the conversation was always logical and current. He was well-informed. He expressed his views
and opinions without fear or favour and brought a good deal of lateral thought
to any discussion. I sincerely hope one day we will meet again in another
realm.
When I look back the memories of 50+ years, Lubber was a
kind, sociable friend and a unique human being. This is not an attempt to deify
him. He too had the same faults we all possess.
As in his youth Lubber was extraordinarily frank, feared no
one and retained an aura of gravitas from his ‘consultant’ days. He had the
remarkable ability to bring to any discussion a huge degree of intelligence
derived from lateral thinking.
Around 2016 when on a visit to Thailand, I phoned him in
Bangkok. He promptly booked a room in the same hotel as I did. We enjoyed a boys’ evening out and had a
grand time eating and drinking to our hearts content. The last time we met was
in London at his hotel when we enjoyed a sumptuous lunch and a fine chat. It is,
and will always remain, one of the great privileges of my life to have known
him. Perhaps it is au revoir and
not goodbye. I know he will have a lot to say about that, too.
Asoka passed away suddenly in October 2023 on his annual
visit to see his sons in London.
A.Satchithananda
Ever curious, he was cultured as he was intelligent. We
played table tennis and carrom in the faculty Common Room and over cups of tea
put the world to right. He later emigrated to the USA. We were both Apple
Computer buffs. In those early days they were disastrously unreliable beasts.
We tried hard to make sense and keep them working.
Although not a Christian he listened every Christmas to the
Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols sung by the Kings College Choir in
Cambridge on Christmas eve, broadcast at 3pm GMT which he said was a ritual
since his schooldays.
When Satchi was at the height of his fame and success as a
Paediatrician in Wisconsin, he walked away from the profession due to ill
health. His journey through life was filled with sadness and tragedy, but he
always managed to smile and joke with his friends. I remember well his charm
and intellect. We met up in an Indian Restaurant in London in the 1990s and
enjoyed lunch and exchanged gifts. His present to me was a Gorecki’s 3rd
Symphony, a deeply sorrowful piece of work. Understandably, the events of his
painful past and his own illness had a devastating effect on his life and
personality. Despite this, he maintained his dignity and composure, remaining a
loyal friend to the end. He indeed stood above the common herd.
Satchy passed away in August 2011 in Florida, USA
Revelion Drahaman
I first met Revo in 1965 when we were both students at the
Faculty of Medicine in Colombo. It was the Swinging Sixties. Memories of amber
nectar, tall tales and late nights whizz around my head as I recall those years
of long ago. Friendships were made and firmed in the canteen and common room
which was the social hub of the Faculty where laughter was endemic.
Revo started his training with the first batch of students
at Peradeniya and moved to Colombo on a transfer. As our surnames were nearer
the beginning of the alphabet, we did most of the clinical work together. Our
walks on the long corridors to every corner of the General Hospital in search
of patients and knowledge is a memory that has stayed with me. This brought us
closer and the friendship lasted a lifetime. By his dignity and decency, he
brought honour to his school, the profession and his community. This short tribute
is a testament to the caring and integrity which was evident in everything he
did.
Revo was a quiet, thoughtful man and lived a remarkable
life. He was ever so humble about his success and never regarded himself as
someone special. Despite his privileged upbringing, he never lost the common
touch. I consider myself so very fortunate to have met him in my journey
through life. Revo is a gem in a world of pebbles. He has gone before us in the
journey we all must take.
Revo passed away peacefully in Colombo in December 2024
after a prolonged illness bravely borne.
Lakshman Dias Abeygunawardene
I first met Lakshman in the “Block” when we were freshers at
the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo in 1962. Then we both lived in Nugegoda.
There were times he gave me a lift to the faculty in his Honda 50 motor-cycle.
Our surnames being at the beginning of the alphabet we sat near to each other
at lectures, walked the long corridors of the General Hospital together and
worked in the same wards. Friendship blossomed as we did most of the demanding
tasks together for the full five years.
Lakshman loved faculty life more than most and enjoyed it to
the full. He was a fine billiards player. Carrom was his forte. Lakshman was
one of the best players of the game and won the faculty tournament a couple of
times. He was a great follower of the University cricket team and was ever
present at the Sara Trophy games lending his support. Watching Rugby was
another of his passions and never missed an important club game. He was always
there for the Colours Night and Block Night dances at the University’s King
George’s Hall, jiving the night away. Ever-present at the evening booze-ups in
the faculty common room, Lakshman was there to take me home after the event.
Although he enjoyed a drink Lakshman never exceeded the sensible limits he set
for himself. He never smoked. With him good sense always prevailed.
I remember he was always polite and had the great ability to
be calm, discreet and diplomatic. He had the skill to hide his anger so very
well. Beneath his gentle demeanour, Lakshman had a steely core. He was
intelligent and astute and played his cards close to his chest. Lakshman was
never in a hurry to make important decisions which he did after careful
thought. This stood him in good stead throughout his career and in his life.
I last met him in August 2012 when we enjoyed an Indian meal
at the Cinnamon Grand recalling many of those wonderful memories of our time
together. Lucky will be forever remembered for initiating the Batch Blog which
is still a lively forum riding the ether.
Lucky passed away peacefully in Colombo in December 2024
after a long illness borne with characteristic resilience and determination.
J.C Fernando
JC has had a rewarding professional career. We have enjoyed
his company, humanity and joie de vivre. Rarely boring or predictable,
sometimes outrageous, JC was excellent company. He had tremendous enthusiasm
for social events in medical school. Being a fine musician, many of us got to
know JC at social functions. We sang and danced at the memorable and raucous
evening booze-ups in the Men’s Common Room. My abiding memory at these events
is the lithe figure of the ‘Dark Knight’ strumming his guitar, singing in
graphic detail the itchy tale of “the dance of the phthirus pubis”. His
signature song was “Saima cut wela” a tragic tale of a beginner’s hangover and
an effective home remedy. He sang “Suranganee-ta malu genawa”, tempting fate
long before they became a pair!! He capped it all with an enduring contribution
to the Final year trip making the days brighter and the nights merrier.
I last met him with Lucky Abeygunawardene at the SSC club
for dinner in the late 1990’s. Thereafter we exchanged the occasional email. His
was a good life well lived. JC has left fond memories which will be treasured
by many.
J.C passed away in Colombo in April 2023 after a long
illness battled with bravery and fortitude.
S.R De Silva
Sunil came from the upper echelons of society with a strong
academic background but was resolutely down to earth. This showed even in the
way he dressed. He had the remarkable ability to move with equal ease with the
bourgeoisie and the proletariat, a trait inherited from his illustrious uncle
Colvin R de Silva. He made many friends in the faculty and by his very nature
had no enemies. Sunil was soft-spoken, self-effacing and sober. His lifestyle
was modest and unpretentious. He was exceptionally kind to everyone and treated
all with courtesy and respect. Sunil never entertained any of that frivolous
gossip which was rampant in the university.
We were all just out of our teenage years and showed our emotions
easily, but not Sunil. I never saw those moments of sentimentality in him.
Perhaps he masked them skilfully with his distinctive poker face.
He may have a chuckle reading this narrative, wagging his
finger at me. Sunna passed away suddenly and unexpectedly after a road traffic
accident in the USA in 1976.
As the lyrics of a famous song by Billy Joel says “Only the
good die young”
Tilak Dayaratne
During our faculty years, Tilak lived in Homagama. He rode
his red Moto Guzzi, generating noise and elegance in equal measure. He often
took me to Nugegoda, weaving through at high speed the High Level road traffic whilst
I held on to my dear life. When I offered to pay him for the trip, he wanted to
pay me for taking the risk.
Tilak was a sensitive and thoughtful man. He was disdainful
of hypocrisy, social convention and conformity. His apparent indifference
should not be confused with a lack of respect for values and beliefs. On those
rare social occasions, he ignited interesting discussion and humour. Tilak
detested the spotlight. To many, his life was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, within
an enigma. To those who got to know him, Tilak was charming, kind and
courteous. We got on tremendously well during our days at the faculty. He was a
talented artist. At an end of appointment party, I recall that indelible moment
when he stood up and sang about a Dutch girl. Our hostess was from the
Netherlands. I do regret not keeping in touch after the great dispersal of
1967.
Tilak passed away in 2012 in Colombo. He is now at peace,
something that eluded him most of his life. May it last forever.
May he attain the Ultimate Bliss of
Nirvana
Ours was the golden era of medical
education in Sri Lanka. Hence, I wish to remember just one person from the
faculty and another from the clinical staff to represent the many who taught us
beyond the call of duty.
Prof. G. H. Cooray – His lectures were precise, authoritative, and comprehensive. Those he
delivered on general pathology and tumours were especially brilliant and deeply
inspiring. Though his old-fashioned demeanour kept him somewhat distant from
students, he was consistently kind and helpful. Prof. Gerald Henry Cooray
passed away in 1970 at the age of 62.
Dr. Darrel Weinman – His ward classes were nothing short of theatrical. He taught us to
recognise clinical signs and approach diagnosis with clear, logical reasoning.
Dr Weinman never subscribed to the toxic culture that often prevailed toward
students. He was one of the finest teachers of our time at the GHC. He passed
away in Sydney, Australia, in 2018 at the age of 89.
(c) Kumar Gunawardane - REMEMBRANCE 2026
Your thoughts and your memories,
Of the times, we loved,
The times we cried,
The times we fought,
The times we laughed,
For if you always think of me,
I will never have gone”
In this month of remembrance, we recall with tenderness not only those who are no more, but those who are with us, vibrant and vigorous, a reminder of our own youth and vitality. We must also remember with affection, even those who were like “ ships that pass in the night and speak to each other only in passing”, for they too were part of our band.
There is the sadness of unrequited love, too; cherished ones ascending the ancient wooden terraced steps, passing by in a cloistered car or walking gaily along the endless roofed corridors, making the heart beat faster but to no avail. I consoled myself. “She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies”. Poetry is a powerful healer, and we mustn’t linger long in the caves of despair.
There were also instances of "The Moon and Sixpence." So busy yearning for the moon, that one never saw the sixpence at the feet.
We remember youths with hearts of gold who we wish had eternal life. No one is immortal, but they will remain in our hearts till the end of our days. The laughter, the banter, the double entendres, often expressed with a poker face; the supreme exponent being Sunna, with ‘Lubber’ ( Asoka Wijekoon) following hot on S’s heels. There were sportsmen, who we had to coax to relate their triumphs, and the Lotharios who needed little encouragement to brag of their conquests.
Some who were taken away too soon were sadly amongst the brightest and the best, but we are thankful too that many of the elite are still with us and illuminating the lives of multitudes.
We can take solace in the timeless words of
William Wordsworth
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not,
Rather find Strength in what remains.
Khalil Gibran
“Ever has it
been said,
Love knows
not its
own
depth,
Until the hour of separation
“
(d) Mahendra Gonsalkorale,
I could write about so many wonderful colleagues I have had the pleasure of knowing, and indeed I have done so many times in our Blog. This year, I shall re-post one I did for that unique and exceptional person, Zita Perera Subasinghe. This is what I wrote about her in 2024.
Zita was a truly remarkable person, and it was my great fortune to have known her. If indeed there is anything after death, Zita will surely be in the best possible place.
Her courage and determination in her final illness are a lesson to all of us. She went through a lot of difficult treatments and procedures, not for her sake but for the sake of her husband Joe, and her children. She knew how much her life meant to them, and this gave her the courage to persist and endure. I was firmly convinced that she did not fear death and was prepared to leave with dignity, and in fact, she told me so. But right to the end, her thoughts were on her loved ones and not her.
Her life story is one of devotion - devotion to family, friends, patients, anyone in need and humanity in general. She was moved by the trials and tribulations of others and was always willing not just to step in and help if she could, but to do it in a sincere and loving way without expecting any personal rewards.
She firmly believed that all the good things we do to others and to ourselves must be done while we are alive. Not only did she believe in it, but she also practised it. That is typical of Zita- she practised what she preached.
Zita, we all miss you terribly. May you rest in peace
